Many aspects of this film appealed to me before I went to see it. I liked that it wasn’t a sequel, or a remake/reboot, or an adaptation of a comic, or a TV series/Video game/theme park ride. It’s an original story (well perhaps, but more on that later…) and an unashamedly loud, brash summer blockbuster. The fact that Guillermo Del Toro was the director drew me to it all the more, and who doesn’t want to see GIGANTIC robots beating the utter crap out of GIGANTIC monsters?

Undoubtedly some SPOILERS AHEAD.

There is no doubt it achieves its main aim of putting that particular robot/monster titanic slugfest on the screen in some style. And for me, they were often its most entertaining sequences. The sheer volume in the cinema was enough to convincingly emulate the sensation of being slammed in the face by a double-decker bus sized fist. It definitely achieves that sense of scale, which was another thing that enticed me in the original teaser trailers and posters – they weren’t mincing around with exoskeletons or even Transformer-sized robots; these Jaegers were colossally immense, awe-inspiring constructions.

Beyond the megalithic punch-ups, I can’t say there is much more to recommend the film. Perhaps that is being unkind. I liked the concept of the ‘Drift’, the two pilots acting as right and left hemispheres of the brain, the ‘neural handshake’. That concept had great potential for revealing elements of backstory and character in a clever plot-relevant way. There is a stupendous amount of detail involved in the Jaegers and some of the world-building is interesting: for example I liked the way they dive straight in and take you through to a point well past the first incursion, or response, and submerge you face-first into this new world order. It’s a bold narrative move. Too many films these days (superhero movies, I’m talking to you) spend so much time with origin stories and set-up that it’s impossible to have a complete story in the world within the available running time.

But I’m being generous. This is a hugely expensive B-movie, complete with TERRIBLE dialogue, bad acting (Charlie Hunnam I’m looking at you, although the awful accent they saddled you with didn’t help), stock characters and over-used predictable plot elements.

At times it’s so ridiculous that I almost lost interest in the entire film. For example, when the two wacky scientists make their entrance (and any time they’re on the screen, to be honest). Various plot-convenient Jaeger abilities that had hitherto gone unemployed – ELBOW ROCKET! SWORD MODE! (why the thundering hell didn’t they use the sword before that point? And while I’m at it, why not just open up with plasma cannon to the head before the Kaiju get their slimy paws on you?). And the ending – let’s penetrate the giant alien ship and upload the virus to the alien mainframe then inexplicably escape let’s penetrate the Breach and nuke the sonsabitches then inexplicably escape.

And then I’m ticking off the painfully overused tropes and clichés – the loss of a parent/sibling/loved-one in the opening scenes to set up a character’s arc; the gruff commander with a secret, a rousing speech at the right moment and an eventual self-sacrifice for the good of the many (but really, who thought the ‘cancelling the apocalypse’ line was a good idea?); the cocky ace pilot whose respect our hero has to earn; the shadowy, uncaring government types etc…

It’s pointless going into the various plot holes in any detail, but the parts that really leapt out at me were the incredibly important scientist sent on his own into a life-threatening situation. No back-up at all? Not one guy who can maybe handle himself in a fight or possessing even an iota of common sense to help him on this perilous journey that might save the entire human race from becoming Kaiju muesli? What about the evolution that led from planes and tanks to humongous killer robots? Was there no inbetween stage where all that incredible technological know-how thought that perhaps barrages of intelligent missiles to the head might be more effective at taking down the Kaiju? Okay, that might not plug the breach, but seems a method that might have been considered.

Perhaps I’m asking too much of a film that is blatantly riffing on the classic Toho Godzilla films, which I used to enjoy heartily in all of their silliness. There was no pretence at being anything other than giant monsters fighting each other. The Jaegers reminded me of Jet Jaguar from Godzilla vs Megalon, and there is no doubt that Del Toro has made his own version of those films, with the sugary Japanese pop-culture references and instant appeal to kids (I would have loved the hell out of this film as a thirteen year-old boy).

Still… I can’t help but feel Del Toro is capable of something so much better. The script feels at times written by a committee to include all the elements such a film requires. I’m a huge fan of Del Toro’s subtler fantasy/horror movie work in The Devil’s Backbone and Pan’s Labyrinth. I would love to see the version of Lovecraft’s Mountains of Madness as directed by him if he ever gets to go ahead with it. Pacific Rim feels like Del Toro is playing with his toys.

Two films in the cinema recently. I know Cloud Atlas came out months ago in the US, but it was only out in the UK recently, and I caught it the other night at the end of its theatre-run.

This film was always going to be a challenge, for the film-makers and for the viewers. I’m a huge fan of David Mitchell’s novel and read it when it first came out. When I heard a film was being made, I scoffed at the idea. How on earth do you film a novel with six separate stories being told in a Russian doll structure, over several hundred years of time from a 19th century sailing ship to a far future post-apocalyptic society where everyone speaks in a pidgin language? A lot of what is enjoyable about David Mitchell’s novels is in the precise and beautiful language he engages for his prose, and I could not conceive of how such a film could be made, and how it would be enjoyable to watch.

I won’t say that I was entirely proved wrong, but the Wachowskis and Tom Tykwer have made a tremendously ambitious film that weaves the six storylines together in a patchwork, rather than structuring it like the novel. A bold move that both works incredibly well and at the same time doesn’t quite convey the storytelling aspect that is so clever and integral to the novel – i.e. that each subsequent character is reading about the previous story in some format (a journal, letters, a mystery novel, a film, a confession etc…). It is present in the film, but the film concentrates far more on the interconnectedness theme and takes that to an extreme conclusion.

And that is the main difficulty I have with this movie. In an attempt to make the theme of connected souls through the ages, the film utilises the same actors to play many different roles in different timelines, which turns the experience of watching the movie into an actor-spotting game, and that in turn becomes more and more of a freakshow with Tom Hanks giving some ridiculous turns (including one unforgivable Scottish Accent and a vaguely passable Irish accent), culminating in white actors being transformed into Asians through a disturbing use of make-up effects and vice-versa (although I know which one will cause the most offence). I wondered if the film would have been any less enjoyable if they had simply employed different actors in the different timelines and actually, you know, used Korean actors for the Neo-Seoul scenes. I think with the distinctive visual style for each timeline employed throughout, it wouldn’t have made any difference, although I do understand why they did it, embodying the theme in what could’ve been a potentially clever manner, but I think ultimately devolved into some quite bad ageing make-up and racist caricature.

A shame really, as the film makes a solid attempt at bringing the book to the screen, with some extremely faithful scenes and good acting from Ben Whishaw and Jim Broadbent in particular. I did enjoy it, was swept up in the undeniably impressive visual grandeur, was also thrilled by the clever use of cutting between timelines to create tension. At times it feels like pantomime, but it’s better than you think, and if it introduces anyone to the magnificent novel then, job done.

Trance, I saw a couple of weeks ago on its release. A new Danny Boyle film is always something to be excited about. His ability to turn his directing hand to so many different styles so successfully is outstandingly impressive. His films are always stylish, shocking and thought provoking. Trance is no different in that respect, and I found myself thinking about it and discussing it for days afterwards.

It’s a difficult film to review without spoilers, but I’ll try.

It’s a film about identity, art theft and abusive relationships, which is already saying too much. Identity is the main theme, and the film itself has identity issues, with its point of view shifting unexpectedly and characters not being what they first appear to be.

I was riveted to it from start to finish. It is a head trip of a film, with a very blurred approach to what is real and employs some deliberately shocking imagery (some of which is gratuitous – in my opinion). It’s always thrilling and beautifully put together, but…

At its heart I found it rather a cold, empty experience. Because of the way it plays with identity and reality, identifying or sympathising with any character becomes impossible. Their true natures aren’t revealed until near the end, by which time it’s too late to feel empathy for anyone and events take increasingly more ridiculous and implausible turns. The acting performances are great from everyone involved – James McAvoy and Rosario Dawson in particular – which leads me to think it’s the fault of the story. With a film that is so trippy and mysterious, we the audience need something constant to grapple onto and pull us through the rabbit hole, otherwise the style overwhelms the substance and the film loses its emotional heart.

To discuss it any further would be to ruin the plot, and I would say that it will make enjoyable second viewing as it will be an entirely different film second time around. Took me back to the atmosphere of Shallow Grave with its implausible but entertaining story and its reprehensible characters. Entertaining but hollow.

I’ve been a bit lacking in the reviewing-of-films department on the blog recently. Not that I’ve seen a great deal of new films. I’ve only been to the cinema once since The Hobbit, but I have seen quite a few on the small screen, some of which have been wonderful. So here’s a brief round-up of three good films I’ve seen in the last month or so, and then I’ll try to get back to the longer reviews.

First, Beasts Of The Southern Wild. Absolutely the best film I’ve seen for a long time. Lyrical, astonishing, heartbreaking. Tough to sum up, as a simple plot summary does not do it justice. Dreamy (and nightmarish) magical realism set in a Louisiana Bayou, directed by Benh Zeitlin, all seen through the eyes of a little girl. And what a little girl… Quvenzhané Wallis is incredible, despite the fact she was what, five years old when this was made? She carries the entire film with a touching, believable performance of incredible strength and vulnerability. I cried like a baby at the end. There are strong layers of metaphor you can read here, ecological messages and the tide of progress sweeping aside the poor, but at its heart this is a personal journey about the courage of the tiniest resident of the ‘Bathtub’.

Life of Pi was the last film I saw in the cinema and I’d intended to write a proper review, but never got around to it. Now it’s been too long since I saw it to write something of substance as the movie is not fresh enough in my head any more.

Being a long-time fan of Yann Martel’s book I’d always thought Life of Pi would have suited being made as a stylised animation to suit the meditation upon storytelling that is at its heart. In the end, with the aid of modern visual effects (of which there is a controversy bubbling in Hollywood) and the directorial eye of Ang Lee the story has been brought to life superbly, retaining the stylised, animated feel I’d hoped for while at the same time employing elements of realism. Richard Parker the Bengal tiger is utterly believable as a CGI creation which, for once, I stopped seeing as special effects. The 3D is actually used creatively and lends texture to the images in a way that makes its use important here, unlike so many other 3D films where it’s just a gimmick. The visceral aspects of Pi’s journey are captured beautifully and Suraj Sharma is terrific in the role. Lived up to and exceeded my expectations for a film of this book.

Synecdoche: New York is not a recent film (2008), but one I’ve wanted to see since I first heard about it. Written and directed by Charlie Kaufman, who has been responsible for some of the best writing in film of the past decade – Being John Malkovich, Adaptation, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

This won’t be a film for everyone, that’s for sure, but for me it was sublime. Working on the level of dream logic with a magnificent scope as Philip Seymour Hoffman’s playwright/director character creates a gigantic, unending production based on his whole life in an aircraft hangar-sized warehouse. The play within the film is peopled by lookalikes and other actors playing roles from his life until those roles cross over into real life and all the lines are blurred. I loved the idea that he eventually becomes little more than a bit-part player in the production of his own life. It’s baffling and inscrutable, but hypnotic and funny at the same time, with some genuinely awesome imagery. One to watch, not one to describe.

Looper is a difficult film to write about. Period. But it is almost impossible to discuss it without making some spoilers. So consider yourself warned. But, like me, if you’ve just seen the film you’ll be itching to discuss it and hear what other people have said. It’s that sort of film. A clever, compelling SF story that confounds expectations and raises many questions.

S P O I L E R S

This is about as current as my movie reviews are likely to be. Looper only opened last week in the UK and I saw it on good old cheap Tuesday night at the local multiplex. In retrospect, I now remember why I normally leave big, hyped films like this to drop out of the news and see them a couple of weeks down the line. My expectations are then lowered, and with Looper my expectations were ludicrously high. To be honest I didn’t really know exactly what to expect. The trailers don’t really give a lot away. It’s a film about assassins in a future society doing the dirty work of an even further future society’s mob chiefs thanks to the benefits of time travel. It’s a clever set-up and could have resulted in the usual Hollywood SF fodder, with a pretty boy star at its helm cracking wise, shooting bad guys and wearing as much product placement as possible, but from the mind of Rian Johnson (who wrote and directed the sublime Brick) we are presented with something much braver, more layered and ultimately more satisfying. The film takes you in one direction and then just as you think you’re settling into its rhythm it heads off on another completely random vector. From city-based dystopian SF to paranoid on-the-run thriller to emotional, sun-drenched scenes on a farm, with swaying fields of cane.

Once you emerge from the cinema, feeling rather dizzy, it is almost impossible not to start examining the mechanics of a film that involves time travel, but this is a mistake with Looper. Through the mouths of Jeff Daniels character, Abe and through Bruce Willis’ old Joe, we are given explicit stage directions not to think too hard about the time travel aspects, because it’s ‘cloudy’ and it ‘will fry your brain like an egg’.

I think that’s one of the secrets to truly enjoying the film. Switch off your inner critic and be swept up in it. Then you will be taken in by Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s drug-eyed killer who finds a conscience, and Emily Blunt’s strong-willed farm-girl/mother, and the incredible Pierce Gagnon’s telekinetically-powered child, and Noah Segan’s child-like, fumbling junior mobster. This film’s heart and soul is its characters and its dialogue and its beautifully realised (and believable) future-world. It’s a joy to see so much time spent developing characters and for the writing to shine through, not afraid to spend some slower moments in their company. It makes the emotional scenes pop all the more effectively. Particularly when young Cid’s incipient powers burst to the fore.

I have some issues which I can’t quite resolve, and therefore detract from what could have been an almost perfect film. One is the voiceover narration. Hard to communicate the important stuff without it, but it feels a little lazy and is not used consistently. I wish they had explored the ramifications of the time travel a little more. In many ways the time travel is only a small part of the film, even though it is set up as such a major aspect of it. In particular, I would have liked to have seen more texture and detail to Old Joe’s motivations for coming back. I felt Bruce Willis was underused, despite some standout scenes from him, including a relentless massacre. As always with films like this, the female characters are afterthoughts, apart from Emily Blunt’s Sara, which does rescue Looper from having no other female characters except a double-crossing whore and a saint who has no dialogue.

This is adventurous cinema of the sort that I wish would come around more often. Instead we have a film as confident, well-written and cliché-defying coming around maybe once every ten years if we’re lucky. Rian Johnson is a film-maker to keep a very close eye on. This is cinema with style to spare, and the kind of film that makes me want to watch it again and again.